


Some sort of day today

by megs_got_all7 (megyal)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 17:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8218592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megs_got_all7
Summary: (From the prompt): "Jinyoung is a florist with his own small flower shop. Mark drops by one day to buy flowers for his mom, and falls for the cute guy behind the counter. Wanting to see the cute florist on an almost daily basis, Mark ends up creating a bunch of random, silly, ridiculous sounding holidays/celebrations as an excuse to buy flowers."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [JinyoungFicFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/JinyoungFicFest) collection. 



> Ok so the prompter wanted 'fluff with hints of crack' and I'm not even sure I hinted at the crack but I GUARANTEE you that there is lots of fluff. At the very least, there is a total of 0% angst, which the prompter also required.
> 
> I know absolutely nothing about the South Korean educational system, so if something doesn't seem right to you, then it's not right. Please just roll with it for now, and I'll get my research IN BETTER SHAPE NEXT TIME. This is my first Got7 fic so congrats to me YAYYYYY.
> 
> Beta-read by cureyourtemper@tumblr.com. Thank you so so much, E.

* * *

Mark stood on the corner of the street, peering at the screen of his phone. His dad had sent a reminder to him; but his father being who he was, he had sent it in a very public tweet.

_Don't forget to pick up that thing for me, Little Cock! Thank uuuuuu_

Mark shut his eyes tightly for a moment, torn between amusement and mortification. He loved his dad, to pieces, really; it was lucky that he was used to his dad's penchant for posting anything and everything. On top of that, even though they were now living in South Korea, Mark still had a great number of people in the U.S. who followed him on social media… a great number who had just read his dad's nickname for him.

He sighed, and then glanced up at the tiny shop across the road from where he now stood. 'That thing' his father had been reminding him about had been flowers for his mom. His dad wasn't in the city with them right now, and his mother was a bit bummed over it. Mark had been tasked to get some 'very nice flowers and give her a kiss and tell her that I'll do it much better when I get home!'

"Dad, please don't share those things with me," Mark had complained to the sound of his father's evil cackling over the phone. Now, he glanced again at the front door of the small flower shop, squashed between a nail parlour and a tiny restaurant. 

His friend Jackson at college had insisted that Mark go to this particular store. "Don't go to any of the big chain flower stores! Support small businesses!"

"You don't need to shout at me," Mark had told him, pouting slightly, but Jackson had taken his chin in hand and given it a gentle little shake.

"Ah, _stop being so cute_ ," he'd said in Mandarin, wrinkling his own nose. " _Get me some flowers too, my sweet Mark!_ "

Mark had slapped his hand away, laughing at how ridiculous Jackson was, and had taken the address for the shop. He took a deep breath and crossed the street, pushing the door open and stepping in. It was a bit dimmer than he had expected and not as cool as he would have liked. There were plants _everywhere_. It was a flower shop, sure, but he hadn't anticipated the pots of tall greenery lining the walkways and hanging overhead. There was a huge freezer to the back, displaying delicate blooms and surrounded by shelves loaded with buckets of even more flowers. The scent was a conflicting mess, sweet and strong, and Mark sniffled.

Some other customers milled around, carefully clutching handfuls of plants, and Mark made his way around them, heading for where the cashier seemed to be located. A young woman stood behind the counter in a neat black uniform, her black shirt adorned with a stylised hibiscus and white lettering below the logo.

" _Hello,_ " Mark greeted her with a polite bow, which she returned with a warm smile. He pulled down his face-mask and tried his best to form his words carefully, but the language seemed oddly slippery in his mind today. "Uh... _for mother_?"

The attendant blinked at him and tilted her head. She said something in reply, but Mark's mind had apparently gone on vacation, because the words he worked so hard to learn over the past few months had simply flittered away. He scowled at himself, staring at the glass surface of the counter. Mark felt his shoulders lift, and resigned himself to walking out without the flowers for his mother.

The young woman spoke urgently, patting one hand on the glass surface; an obvious signal to _stay here_. Mark watched as she stepped to a door located on her side of the counter and pushed it open from its slightly ajar position.

At her quick query, a male voice answered from inside and she stepped in. Instead of the woman returning, a young man around his age stepped out and simply stopped, staring at Mark.

Mark stared back at him, taking in the fringe of dark hair over the other man's forehead and heavy eyebrows. His gaze was piercing and Mark blinked some more. _Wow_ , he thought distantly, _what a great mouth_.

"Uh--" he started and the other dude bowed low.

"Hello," he said in English as soon as he straightened up. "Can I help you?" His accent was very heavy, the syllables too even, but Mark seized on the familiar words so fast that he was nearly giddy with relief.

"Yes!" he exclaimed and felt his cheeks warm when the other man recoiled a little. "Sorry! Yes, I'm trying to get some nice flowers for my mother."

The attendant nodded slowly, obviously parsing the words in his head. "Flowers for mother," he finally repeated in a soft, deep voice. "Any flower that mother like most?"

Mark smiled at him. That was such a cute way of phrasing the question. "Tulips. She really likes tulips."

"Ah, good," the man said and they spent a few more beats just looking at each other. The attendant said, "Park Jinyoung."

Mark said, "Huh?"

"My name," the man said, the sides of his nice mouth lifting slightly. "My name is Park...Jinyoung."

Mark had already met quite a few Parks, very many Jinyoungs and even three or four Park Jinyoungs. This was the first one he had spent so long gawking at.

He managed to offer his own name and this Park Jinyoung said, "Mark" as if it was some kind of mantra, rolling the letters around in his mouth. It was suddenly even more warmer in this place and Mark stifled the urge to fan at his own face a little.

Jinyoung turned and opened the door through which he had entered, stepping in and apparently speaking to the young woman from before. He used the word for ' _big sister'_ and Mark wondered if they were really related or just friends. When she came back, her arms full of flowers, he took a good look at both of them together and thought he could see a resemblance.

Together, Park Jinyoung and his maybe-sister deftly put together a sweet little bouquet for Mark, weaving in sprigs of ferns and other greenery. Another young woman entered the shop, dressed in the same uniform, and the two present attendants addressed her as 'big sister' as well.

When they were finished, Park Jinyoung handed the bouquet to Mark, who looked it over with delight. It was so nice, and he paid without reservation.

"Thank you for your business," Park Jinyoung told him. "Please return soon."

His mother liked the flowers and she cried over them. She hugged Mark tightly, scolded Mark's little brother for pulling on the ferns too much and then went to her room to call her husband.

When he was going to bed, Mark thought about how carefully Park Jinyoung had placed the flowers in his hands.

\--

"Hey!" Jackson screamed in his ear. Mark squawked and tumbled off the bench, legs flailing. On the other side of the wooden bench, that kid BamBam gave them both a bored look, then went back to typing on his phone. BamBam was cute and knew it; he hung out with the older boys because he was convinced that being around around kids his age was bad for his image. No matter how Mark and Jackson tried to explain that they were _university-level_ in this international school, and maybe BamBam would be more comfortable with his high-school peers, BamBam would just ignore them and pretend he didn't understand a word they said. Once he had even answered in dismissive, rolling Thai, and wouldn't speak in Korean until they'd quit trying to get him to leave.

"What?" Mark snapped, rubbing at his ringing ear and glaring at Jackson as he crawled up back to his spot. They were in a sort of random sitting area tucked near the general cafeteria, tall windows letting in the strong light onto the single table and benches.

"I've been asking you about this problem for _hours_!" Jackson said, which really meant he had been trying to get Mark's attention for maybe fifteen seconds. Mark looked down at the numbers sprawled in Jackson's jerky writing and then pointed out where Jackson had gone wrong in the calculations.

"Oh! Okay, I get it. Thanks, Mark-hyung!" He cackled, knowing full well that Mark didn't mind if he was called _hyung_ or not. 

Quite casually, BamBam said in his hoarse little voice, "Why is Mark-hyung so distracted today?"

"None of your business," Mark told him and then immediately regretted his choice of words as BamBam looked up from his phone with his eyes gleaming. "I mean...no reason."

"Is _someone_ distracting Mark-hyung today?" he asked in gleeful tones. Mark kicked him under the table. Usually, he would be the one taunting BamBam over everything, but he was off his game right now.

"Don't you have a class now?" Mark asked him.

"Is it a girl?" BamBam was now typing without looking at his screen, like a real punk. "Or a boy?"

"Please leave," Mark said and BamBam let out a hooting little laugh. Mark glanced towards Jackson, sighing at the wide grin on his friend's face. "Don't start."

"Don't start?" Jackson clutched at his chest, his wounded expression made of complete drama. "Don't start _what_? The crown prince of the International Combined Schools is having some sort of romantic crisis and he didn't tell his good friend GaGa, so tell me: what is there to start?"

"He's not the prince of this school," BamBam said, his tone contemplative. "I mean, if there was a prince, it would be _me_."

Mark and Jackson rolled their eyes, sighing at BamBam's familiar preening. Mark managed to fend off their prying, pointed questions ( _are you going on a date soon? Where did you meet?_ ) and managed to escape them for his own classes. He left school through a rarely used side-door and took the subway, not really thinking until he got to the street of the flower shop. He was practically at the counter, smiling at Park Jinyoung's surprised expression, before he realised he was here without _any good reason at all_.

"Welcome back," Park Jinyoung said, his smile so wide that the corners of his eyes crinkled adorably. "Help you?"

"Uh." Mark cast about desperately in his mind. "It's...uh, Friends from Hong Kong Day!"

Jinyoung's brow furrowed; he blinked slowly and then said, "Ahh. I see," in a tone which indicated he really didn't see at all.

Mark rambled, "Yes. That's it: Friends from Hong Kong Day. My best friend at school is from Hong Kong and, yeah. You know. I just want celebrate with him. With flowers. On this day, this, um…"

"Friends from Hong Kong Day," Jinyoung supplied, his smile now in full bloom again.

Mark snapped his fingers and grinned as well. "Right. That's it. Do you think you could help?"

"Of course." Jinyoung took his time, talking to Mark about Jackson in a mix of Korean and English, helping Mark with his pronunciation on quite a few words. When he was done, he handed Mark a squat little arrangement of bright orange flowers and spiky green leaves.

"This is so nice," Mark said, staring down at it. It really was, and when he looked up at Jinyoung to thank him, he was caught by an intense stare. He took a deep breath and said, "I like it. A lot."

"I'm very glad to hear that," Jinyoung murmured and Mark felt his face grow warm again. "Please return soon."

"I will." Mark exited the shop in a daze. He went to Jackson's place first, greeted Jackson's parents (who gave him and the flowers very puzzled stares) and pushed open Jackson's room door.

"Happy Friends from Hong Kong Day," he said, putting the flowers right on Jackson's face. Jackson, who happened to be dozing, spluttered and sat up straight, managing to catch the arrangement before it tumbled over into his lap.

"Hey, thanks so much," Jackson said as he gave the flowers a dopey smile. Then he shook his head. "Wait. What? There's a day like that?"

Mark sat down on the floor beside Jackson's bed and cradled his face in both hands. "No. I made it up so I could have a reason to see this guy at the flower store again."

"Oh," Jackson said in a quiet voice and Mark froze. He was admitting a lot of things in one sentence and although he and Jackson had been friends for quite awhile, maybe there were some things he should keep to himself.

Then again, this was _Jackson_. He was probably the nicest human being Mark knew, and he lived up to this title by saying in teasing tones, "So BamBam and I _were right_ : you were distracted today!"

Mark laughed, really glad that Jackson was in his life. "Yeah. You were right."

\--

BamBam was insufferable when he found out. "Why did _Jackson_ -hyung get flowers and not me? I'm from Thailand," he said with a wrinkle of his nose. "I should be the one getting flowers."

"I have no idea what you mean by that," Mark told him. "But if you want flowers, I'll get you flowers."

"Aww." BamBam fluttered his eyelashes. "Hyung is so nice!"

However, when Mark went to the shop, Jinyoung wasn't there. He was astounded at the depth of his disappointment; it felt like someone had struck him in the chest.

"He's at school today," the other attendant told him. "But can I help?"

"No, thank you." Mark bowed and went home in a low mood. Not even his mother making his favourite food for dinner that evening took him out of his funk. On top of that, he couldn't visit the flower shop the day after: he and Jackson had been scheduled as the student tutors for the after-school tumbling lessons given to the little kids, and he didn't have time. He had to shake himself out of his sulky state of mind, because the kids were so tiny and so eager and so fast, and they had to keep a close eye on them so that no one got hurt. By the time they were finished, he thought it was far too late to go to the flower store again.

The next day, he went to the shop after his last class, and Jinyoung was behind the counter again, seated. Mark fairly ran through the store towards him as Jinyoung rose to his feet, his dark eyes shining. 

"I didn't see you yesterday," Jinyoung said as soon as Mark got to him. "I waited for some time."

"I was--" Mark paused and heaved for a little bit, breathless for more than one reason. "I was teaching at my school."

"Teaching?" Jinyoung said, his eyebrows lifting in query. His gaze swept up and down Mark's body, clad in his loose version of the university-level uniform: a plain shirt over dark trousers, the hood of his jacket pulled over his head. Jinyoung switched to his native tongue: "But Mark-hyung seems very young to be a teacher."

"How do you know I'm older than you?" Mark demanded, trying to seem huffy but spoiling the whole effect with a chuckle. Jinyoung tapped his own cheek.

"Wisdom shows in your face, kind elder."

Mark laughed again, just giddy with joy. "Today is Friends from Thailand Day," he said when he managed to get his laughter under control. "Do you think you can do something nice for me?"

"I will try." Jinyoung was quiet as he gathered flowers and other material, giving Mark quick smiles and glances. Other customers came in and Jinyoung directed them to the other attendant with polite words. 

"You seem to have many foreign friends," Jinyoung commented as he tied and trimmed the bouquet into a wild fall of brash colours. "But then, you are a foreigner yourself."

"You don't have a lot of foreign friends?" Mark asked, wanting to know more about him. Jinyoung gave him a sudden glance from under his thick lashes: brief, but warm.

"Just you for now."

Mark cleared his throat, trying to distract his body from the hot flush rising up his neck. Jinyoung talked about his other friends at the school of fine arts he attended.

"Do you like being in the drama department?" Mark asked and Jinyoung nodded, tying the final bow on the bouquet.

"I like it," he confirmed, and passed over the flowers. "Do you like this?"

Mark didn't look down at Jinyoung's delicate work. "Yes," he said, right to Jinyoung's face. "I really do."

\--

BamBam adored his bouquet for ten minutes, then he dismantled it and gave away flowers and leaves to as many girls and women as he possibly could, and even a few boys. Mark took a video of him strolling casually down the halls, handing out flowers with regal flourishes, and sent it to the number that he'd gotten from Jinyoung, with the message: _I'm truly sorry that my friend doesn't appreciate your hard work_

The reply was quick: _the plight of most art is to not be appreciated in its time_

\--

On Adopt Stray Cats Day, Mark learned about Jinyoung's sisters (they were indeed the other two attendants in the shop), his parents, and his end of year drama presentation. On Cool Aprons Day, Mark told Jinyoung about his worries for his final research paper, which sounded like utter foolishness in his own head (even though his advisor told him that he was doing all right).

His mother wondered why his room was full of floral arrangements. Mark simply said, "I have a new friend in a flower shop," and she just gave him a long, contemplative look, then went to her room to call his dad.

On Red Carpet Day, Jinyoung asked Mark if he wanted go for an ice-cream.

"Not right now," Jinyoung said, the long fingers of one hand fiddling with a bit of red ribbon. "Tomorrow, maybe?"

"I would love to," Mark responded quickly, which was a far cry from his modus operandi. It usually took long hours of coaxing for Jackson to get Mark to go anywhere, and he figured that Jackson would get a laugh out of it. In any case, it was so worth seeing Jinyoung's expression go bright and soft at the same time.

However, when he told Jackson, the other boy was decidedly not amused.

"You're going on a _date_ with this guy?" he demanded, a scowl on his normally sunny features. "You don't know him that well."

"It's not a date," Mark informed him, although a large part of him wanted it to be so. "It's just ice-cream."

"We should go with Mark-hyung on his date," BamBam said from Mark's other side on their bench, and when did _he_ pop up? "Just to be sure."

"You're _not going to do that_ ," Mark snapped at them, and he kept snapping at them even as they trailed him to the flower shop. They tramped inside and bumped into Mark's back when he fetched up suddenly. Jinyoung was in front of the counter, dressed in dark fitted trousers and a nice blue button-down. Without his apron, he seemed slimmer and taller, his hair swept back from his forehead. He looked so good. 

There was no-one else but three other young men with him, and Jinyoung was arguing with the one who was closest to him at the moment. At least, Jinyoung was arguing in heated dialect and the other was giving him a flat, expressionless stare, like a snake observing its prey.

Mark cleared his throat and all four of them turned to look at him. Jinyoung smiled, but it seemed to weigh heavy on his lips.

"This the guy?" the other dude asked before Jinyoung could greet Mark; he looked pretty tough, and Mark realised that this was probably Jinyoung's best friend JB, who apparently made boulders seem cuddly. The other two were more than likely Yugyeom and Youngjae, dubbed 'The Boys' by Jinyoung.

"This is Mark," Jinyoung gritted out and held out his hand. Without thinking, Mark took it and took a breathless moment to enjoy the warm sensation of Jinyoung's fingers against his.

At the sudden deep silence, Mark glanced around and noticed that everyone was staring at their joined hands. He considered tugging his hand away, and then buried that thought. It felt too nice, and he didn't care.

JB, however, seemed to care quite a bit. Without shifting his head, his gaze swept up from their hands to Jinyoung's face. "You don't know him well enough. He's probably not good enough for you."

"Hyung," Jinyoung started in an exasperated manner, but he could go no further because Jackson had already pushed past him and was nose-to-nose with JB in an instant.

"You shouldn't talk about my friend like that," Jackson said, his voice a low threat. "Maybe he's too good for your little flower boy."

"Hey!" one of The Boys called out in outrage, just as JB told Jackson, "Move your face, or I'll move it for you."

Jackson didn't step back. Both of The Boys came forward and BamBam was suddenly in front of them, all bristling hype in his narrow frame. Jinyoung raised his voice, urging everyone to just calm down, but no-one seemed to be listening.

Mark shouted, "Hey! Stop!"

Jackson turned his head to stare at him. So did BamBam, for they both had never heard Mark raise his voice before now. JB, who'd had both hands fisted in the collar of Jackson's shirt, blinked rapidly. Youngjae and Yugyeom had frozen with their shoulders lifted in a flinch, as if someone had fired a gun over their heads.

Jinyoung tilted his head, his eyebrows raised, waiting patiently.

"I like him," Mark said, sticking to simple terms because he just wanted a simple life, really. "And I think he likes me. We're going for ice-cream. If you want to fight it out, don't fight in here because this is a really nice shop. Ready?"

This last was directed at Jinyoung, who gave him a slow smile before nodding. "Ready."

Mark tugged on his hand, and Jinyoung took a step forward before he halted. "Wait," he said and turned back, reaching over the counter with his free hand. He withdrew a simple arrangement, something with long stems and lovely purple-pink petals, and handed it to Mark. 

"After all those days that you bought flowers," he said, "I think we can make today International Mark Day."

Mark, who had never gotten flowers before, felt as if his whole world was realigning into something perfect. When he looked up, Jinyoung stood so close, just looking at him as if he was trying to commit Mark's face to memory. Mark forgot that anyone else was around; he would deal with his friends tomorrow. Right now, it was International Mark Day, and he was going to enjoy every minute left in it with ice-cream and Jinyoung.

"Let's go," he murmured, smiling and leading Jinyoung to the exit, not even looking to see where he was going. He felt sure just by gazing into Jinyoung's eyes. "You know what? I think this is going to be the best day."

_fin_


End file.
